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Chapter Text

"Steven wanted to be the one who made sure Shuaibo could keep smiling"

The clock ticked lazily on the student council room wall, but Shuaibo was already on his feet.
Papers stacked in his arms, he darted around the long wooden table, setting out documents for the next meeting. His sleeves were rolled up, his light brown hair falling messily across his forehead, still tousled from rushing straight after class.

“Shuaibo,” Steven’s voice cut through the room, calm but sharp, “we agreed to sort those before the meeting, not five minutes before.”

Shuaibo froze mid-step, caught in the act. He looked up at Steven, the ever-composed student council president sitting at the head of the table, arms crossed.

“Ah, sorry…hyung! I lost track of time after helping the juniors decorate their class booth. But look, I’m fast, right? I can handle it!” He beamed, cheeks slightly flushed.

Steven sighed. He adjusted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips.
He never changes.

On the other side of the table, Jeongwoo leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers.

“See, Steven? That’s what makes Shuaibo the best vice president.
“He’s everyone’s lifesaver, showing up the moment things start to fall apart.”

Shuaibo blinked, startled. “That’s too much. I just… help out.”

“Exactly!” Jeongwoo grinned, pointing at him dramatically. “You’re always running around, saving the day of others.”

Woongki, one of Shuaibo’s best friends, lounging near the window with Juwon, JL, and Daisuke, whistled.
“He’s more like a school celebrity. Everywhere I go, people are talking about him. Maybe we should start selling ‘Vote for V.P. Shuaibo’ badges.”

“Don’t give them ideas,” Shuaibo groaned, hiding his face in the stack of papers.

“Enough,” Steven’s voice brought silence back. He looked directly at Shuaibo, his tone softer this time.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself. Learn to rely on others.”

For a moment, Shuaibo blinked, caught off guard by the seriousness in Steven’s eyes.
Then he smiled, “I’ll try, hyung. But… I like helping others. It feels right.”

Steven leaned back, watching the glow on Shuaibo’s face, and a memory flickered.

*Two years ago*
Steven was a newly appointed student president, already known as strict and unapproachable.
After the spring sports festival, he returned to the empty courtyard to check on trash collection.

There, he found a first-year boy crouched alone, hands full of garbage bags, sweat dripping down his temples.

“Where are the others? Why are you alone?” Steven asked.

The boy looked up, bright eyes, messy hair, dust on his uniform but smiled wide anyway.

“They already left. But it’s okay, hyung. The school will look better if I finish. It’s not heavy!”

Steven had paused, taken aback. Most students complained or slacked off. This boy smiled even while exhausted. That single smile lingered in Steven’s memory, stubborn and warm.

Back in the present, Steven’s chest tightened slightly. That same smile was shining at him now.

“Alright, that’s it! Meeting’s over!” Jeongwoo declared dramatically, slamming his palm on the table.
“Our VP’s done enough, ice cream time! ”

“Seo Jeongwoo!” Steven scowled, but the others were already laughing.

Chih En didn’t join them. He lingered in his seat, quietly flipping through the agenda.
His gaze trailed after Shuaibo's messy hair, bright grin, energy spilling everywhere.
For a moment his fingers twitched as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he closed the folder.

Meanwhile, Han lingered near the doorway, clutching his notebook. He had barely spoken all meeting, but his gaze never left Shuaibo.
When Shuaibo passed by, giving him a small smile, Han’s ears turned red.

“See you at the café later, guys!” Woongki called, dragging the friend group out the door.

Steven watched Shuaibo collect the last of the papers, still moving too fast, too bright.

He really doesn’t see how much he does to himself…

“Shuaibo,” Steven said, standing.
The boy looked up, blinking innocently.

“After your shift tonight, wait for me. I’ll walk you home.”

Shuaibo tilted his head. “Eh? Steven hyung, you don’t have to…”

“No excuses.” Steven’s voice was firm, but his heartbeat quickened at the sight of Shuaibo’s smile.

Because deep down, he knew every time he saw Shuaibo smile while tired, he wanted to be the one who made sure he could keep smiling.

Chapter Text

Shuaibo came to return a book but stopped when he saw Chih En in the corner, a book open in front of him, his fingers resting lightly against his temple.
“Chih En?” Shuaibo whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence.

Chih En looked up, surprised. “You’re still here.”

Shuaibo grinned, walking closer.
“I could say the same. What are you doing here so late?”

“Reading,” Chih En said simply, as if the answer explained everything.

Shuaibo flopped into the seat across from him, restless as always, tapping his fingers on the table.
They were the same year but in different classes, so most of their encounters happened here in the library, the student council room, or sometimes the cafeteria. “You really like this place, huh?”

“It’s quiet.”

“Of course, it’s a library.” Shuaibo laughed, but when Chih En didn’t smile, he tilted his head. “You mean more than that, don’t you?”

For a moment, Chih En didn’t answer. His eyes drifted back to the open book, though he wasn’t reading.

Finally, he spoke with a low voice.
“When I was younger, my house was… loud. Not in a warm way. Just fighting. Slamming doors.
People shouting until they had no voice left. I hated it. I hated how every noise felt like something was about to break.”

Shuaibo froze, the air suddenly heavier.

Chih En’s gaze lowered.
“So I learned to stay quiet. If I didn’t speak, if I stayed still… no one would notice me.
No one would get angry. Silence became the only safe place I had.”

The words settled between them, fragile and raw.

“Chih...” Shuaibo whispered, his chest tightening.

Chih En finally looked at him, eyes were sharp but trembling beneath the surface.
“People say I’m calm. Strong. Nonchalant. But the truth is, I’m just… surviving.
Even now, I don’t know how to be loud without feeling like everything will fall apart again.”

For once, Shuaibo didn’t know what to say. His usual energy, his playful words, none of them felt right.
So instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms across the table, and simply met Chih En’s gaze without looking away.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Shuaibo said quietly.
“Even if you don’t talk, even if you just sit here, I’ll sit too. That way it won’t feel so heavy.”

Something flickered in Chih En’s eyes, fear, relief and longing all at once.
Then, slowly and hesitantly, a smile slipped out. It was faint, unsteady, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time.
“Shuaibo…You’re ridiculous.”

Shuaibo laughed softly, the tension easing. “Maybe. But at least you won’t have to carry the quiet by yourself.”

And for the first time in a long while, Chih En’s silence didn’t feel lonely,
because Shuaibo was there.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun streamed through the café windows, painting the tables gold. The place smelled of coffee and sugar, warm, familiar, and a little bit sweet.

Behind the counter, Shuaibo fumbled with his apron, still catching his breath from running over. His hair was damp at the edges, his cheeks pink. He was the kind of student everyone knew, smart, always busy with student council work, and still somehow running shifts at the café. But he never complaint, instead he carried it all with the same bright energy.

“Welcome!” he called to the first customers, his voice bright, a smile already tugging at his face.

It didn’t matter if they were regulars or strangers, people always seemed to relax when Shuaibo smiled. He had a way of making the place feel warmer, like it really belonged to them.

“Woah, VP working hard again!”
Juwon’s voice carried as he came through the door, with Woongki, JL, and Daisuke right behind him. They crowded around the counter, already grinning.

“Zhangshu~ the Café Prince, when’s the fanmeeting?” Woongki teased the moment he walked in.

JL smirked. “Honestly, you should start charging people just to see you smile.”

Daisuke pointed at the tip jar. “You better write (for Shuaibo’s health) on it. Everyone here would throw money in.”

They laughed between themselves, piling on one nickname after another like they always did. It was their favorite way to mess with him, and Shuaibo’s reddening ears only made it funnier.

“You guys! Don’t embarrass me in front of customers.”

The bell above the door jingled again, and Jeongwoo walked in with his hands in his pockets, a grin already on his face.

“Wow, this place just got ten times brighter. Oh wait… no, that’s just Shuaibo.”

“Jeongwoo…” Shuaibo groaned, though a laugh slipped out anyway.

“Don’t ‘Jeongwoo’ me. I came to support my hardworking VP…” He leaned casually on the counter, eyes gleaming. “I’ll take a caramel latte. And make it with....extra love.” He slowed down just enough on those last words to make it sound like a dare.

Woongki laughed from nearby. “You’re worse than us!!!”

Right after him, Steven walked in. His uniform was neat, his steps steady. Without sparing Jeongwoo a glance, he went straight to the counter.

“Black coffee,” he said. Then, more quietly, “Don’t rush. I’ll wait.”

Shuaibo gave him a small, grateful nod. His hands were already moving fast, but Steven’s calmness made him breathe a little easier.

The kitchen door creaked. Han peeked out, apron already on. He looked nervous, but when his eyes landed on Shuaibo, his shoulders eased.
“I… I’ll take the next order,” he said quietly.

“Han! It's your first day, right?” Shuaibo’s face lit up. “Thanks a lot. Let’s work hard together.”

Han’s ears went pink as he slipped back into the kitchen, smiling to himself where no one could see.

The café was alive with laughter, chatter, and the soft flow of a lofi playlist. In the middle of it, Shuaibo rushed back and forth, his smile never fading.

At the counter, Jeongwoo rested his chin in his hand, watching. His grin eased into something softer, almost private, as if only Shuaibo could pull that side of him out.

His mind wandered back to his first year, when Jeongwoo had been scolded again for making noise during lecture, the teacher snapped at him while classmates muttered that he was hopeless. He laughed it off, though the echo of those words never really left him.

Then a voice cut through the classroom ,“Teacher, Jeongwoo isn’t bad. He just likes to make people laugh, and it’s not wrong to be cheerful.”

Startled, Jeongwoo turned. It was Zhang Shuaibo, smiling at him as if nothing in the world could shake him. The whole class went silent. No one dared to argue—Shuaibo was one of the top students, and when he spoke, people listened.

No one had ever spoken up for him before. In that moment, something quiet and certain took root in Jeongwoo’s chest.

From then on, he only knew one thing
“if Shuaibo wanted the world to smile, then he’d make sure Shuaibo smiled the brightest.”

Back in the café,
Shuaibo set a cup down in front of him with a grin. “One caramel latte, extra sweeeeet.”

Jeongwoo’s heart tightened. Extra sweet. Just like that smile.

He smirked anyway. “Be careful, VP. You’re making me fall even harder.”

Steven’s hand paused around his cup, and Han peeked through the kitchen window.

Woongki and the others exchanged looks. Then, in perfect unison, they all groaned “Oh, no….Shuaibo’s love life is going to kill us.”

However, Shuaibo only laughed under his breath, the kind of laugh as if he was used to this. Jeongwoo always said things like that, and Shuaibo never knew how to take them, so he just treated it as another joke.

Chapter Text

Han slipped into the student council room quietly, holding a small bag. He hesitated, then walked over to Shuaibo and placed it on the desk.

He is Shuaibo’s junior, a year below him in class, and they’d grown close through the student council. Lately, he’d even taken up a part-time job at the same café as Shuaibo. Of course, he told himself it was for experience, but deep down, there was an another reason.

“What’s this?” Shuaibo asked, opening it. Inside was a neatly packed sandwich and a small carton of milk.

“You… skipped lunch,” Han whispered, avoiding eye contact. “So… I thought…”

Shuaibo’s face softened. His lips curved into a smile as he leaned closer.
“ Thank you! Hannie, you’re the best.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue so naturally, bright, affectionate, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Han froze. His ears went red instantly, his chest tightening like he couldn’t breathe properly. Hannie? Did he… just call me that?

It sounded almost like “honey.” Sweet and dangerous.

He lowered his head, gripping the strap of his bag.
“You’re… welcome.” His voice cracked just slightly, but Shuaibo didn’t notice, already munching happily on the sandwich.

From the other side, Jeongwoo’s jaw dropped.

“Wait..! Hannie?!” He shot out of his seat. “Hold on, when did you two get so close?”

Shuaibo blinked innocently, cheeks stuffed. “Huh? He’s Han. Hannie. My best junior. Cute, right?”

Woongki nearly toppled over laughing. “Oh no, You just killed him, Zhangshu. Look at Han’s face!”

Indeed, Han’s entire neck was flushed red, and he turned quickly away, pretending to rearrange the documents. But inside, his heart wouldn’t stop pounding so fast.

Hannie… he called me Hannie…

“See you tomorrow, our VP!” Woongki shouted as he left with the others.
Shuaibo laughed, gathering his bag. He had already promised to help the student council again in the morning.

He didn’t notice Han standing outside the window for a moment, hesitating, then quietly walking away with his notebook pressed to his chest.

That night, Shuaibo writes down in his planner, “Tomorrow- festival seating plan with Steven hyung.”

He smiled. “It’ll be fun.”

The student council room was quiet the next day, only the sound of scissors snipping and tape stretching. Most members had gone home, but Shuaibo was still focusing on sketching out a new seating plan for the festival.

“You’re staying late again?” Han asked, stepping in with his bag still on his shoulder.

“Y-yeah...Steven hyung said I should take a break, but if I don’t do this now, tomorrow’s going to be a mess.” Shuaibo laughed, brushing hair from his eyes. “It’s kind of fun though, right?”

Han bit the inside of his cheek. Fun? He couldn’t see it that way. But there was something about the way Shuaibo smiled through the work that made it hard to look anywhere else.

“Here,” Han said at last, walking forward. He took the ruler out of Shuaibo’s messy hand. “You’ll mess up the lines if you keep drawing like that.”

“Oh? Hannie’s scolding me now?” Shuaibo teased, leaning back in his chair.

Han remembered his very first week after transferring. He’d ended up in the same class as JL and Juwon, who always seemed so full of energy, always talking about their best friend from the year above, Zhang Shuaibo. They were kind enough to chat with him, but he still felt like he was standing just outside their circle.

At lunch, Han had stood in the cafeteria, tray in hand, not sure where to sit. The noise pressed in on him, laughter and chatter filling every corner, and he almost turned back.

Then a bright voice called across the room “Hey! You’re new, right? Come sit with us!”

It was no other than Zhang Shuaibo.

He waved with both arms, smiling so openly that Han’s chest loosened for the first time all day. JL and Juwon grinned and nudged him forward like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Han remembered how Shuaibo slid his own carton of milk across the tray.
“You look nervous. Drink this. Milk makes you strong, trust me!”

JL chuckled softly, and Juwon added, “That’s just Shuaibo, he always says things like that.”

The words were simple, almost silly, but to Han they felt like warmth breaking through the noise. He drank it anyway. And somehow, the world didn’t feel quite so cold.

That moment has never left him. From then on, he wanted to be where Shuaibo was. It was what pushed him to join the student council, even if it meant extra work, just to stay by his side.

“Han?” Shuaibo’s voice tugged him back to the present. He realized he’d been staring again, ruler paused mid-line.

“You okay?”

Han quickly finished the line and set the ruler down. “Yeah. Just… don’t overdo it, okay?”

Shuaibo laughed, leaning over to peek at his work.

“Wow, Hannie. Your lines are perfect. Better than mine. You’re secretly amazing.”
The compliment was too much. Han grabbed his bag, mumbling, “I—I’m going home,” and stepped out the room, his face was burning.

Behind him, Shuaibo tilted his head, confused but still smiling. “Hannie’s shy today…”

Later that night, Han lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
He touched his chest where the warmth still lingered.

Why does it feel like my heart only beats when he calls me that?

Chapter Text

The school looked completely different. By the time the festival started, the courtyard had turned into a burst of sound and colour, lanterns swaying above the crowd, food stalls packed side by side, and the music flowing through the whole campus.

Laughter echoed through the halls, students in costumes rushed past in a blur of fabric and glitter, and the air was thick with the sweet smell of fried snacks.

At the center of it all, the student council room was chaos. Doors banged open, voices overlapped, papers scattered across desks.

And in the middle of it, moving faster than anyone else, was Zhang Shuaibo.

“Woongki, don’t trip with that box!”

“Daisuke—kun, you can’t eat all the taiyaki samples, they’re for the guests!”

He darted around, laughing, tripping, catching himself, never once losing the smile.

Suddenly, a crash broke through the noise.
JL sprinted past the tables, Juwon chasing after him with a torn banner in his arms.

“Give it back, you thief!!” Juwon yelled.

“You dropped it!” JL laughed, running between the desks.

“Not over the flyers!” Steven shouted, but his voice was drowned out by their laughter as they nearly toppled a stack of boxes.

Shuaibo stepped forward, snatched the banner back, and shoved it at Juwon with a helpless smile. “You two are going to kill me before the festival even ends.”

Steven sat near the entrance, holding a clipboard in hand as he marked the schedule with neat, precise ticks.

His eyes followed Shuaibo moving from one corner to the next, and his jaw tightened. He hated the way Shuaibo threw himself into everything, yet still smiling like he had to for everyone’s sake.

Han crouched in the corner, unpacking props from a box, his hands moving slow and steady. But every so often, his gaze went to Shuaibo, watching each stumble and quick laughs.

He stayed quiet, but his hands moved faster whenever Shuaibo looked too tired, as if working harder himself might ease the weight from Shuaibo.

Chih En sat by the window, stacking tickets into careful piles, his pen scratching across the paper in steady strokes. He looked as calm as ever, distant even, the kind of presence no one paid much attention to.

His gaze wandered toward Shuaibo from time to time, calm and unhurried. No one noticed, not even Shuaibo. And maybe that was the reason why he could keep looking at him.

And there Jeongwoo, with his arms crossed, leaning lazily against the doorframe pretended to smirk at the chaos. But his eyes softened every time they caught Shuaibo laughing, as if the noises didn’t matter as long as he was watching him.

*Flashback*

It was during the same festival last year when Jeongwoo had been stuck decorating the hallway for his class. He’d been late starting, and by the time the deadline came. His classmates had already given up on him, muttering about how Jeongwoo always messed things up.

Jeongwoo sat on the floor, staring at the pile of streamers and paper scraps with no idea where to even start. The more he looked, the worse the mess seemed.

Then Shuaibo appeared, arms full of paper flowers and half a roll of glitter tape.
“Hey! Don’t pout. Want me to help with decorations?”

Jeongwoo blinked up at him. “Aren’t you assigned to another booth?”

“So?” Shuaibo grinned, already climbing onto a chair with the flowers and tape. “Festivals aren’t fun if I let you struggle alone.”

By the time they finished, the hallway was far from perfect, streamers hanging unevenly, flowers taped at odd angles, glitter scattered across the floor.
But it felt warm, colourful, and impossible not to smile at.
Even the teacher, strict as ever, stopped to nod in approval.

That day, Jeongwoo realized another thing.
Shuaibo didn’t just make the day easier. He made it worth smiling through.
And he wanted to keep that feeling forever.

“JEONGWOO! The banner’s falling!” Shuaibo’s shout yanked him out of his thoughts.

Jeongwoo rushed forward and, with one quick jump, grabbed the corner just before it crashed down on a group of students.

“Got it!” he said with a grin, holding the rope high like a hero.

Shuaibo clapped with that bright, genuine grin. “See? Jeongwoo always comes through!”

His chest tightened. Always. Always for you.

But Steven muttered from the desk,
“That was reckless. If he’d fallen, it’d be another problem.”

“Relax, our student president,” Jeongwoo shot back, pointing at his own chest. “If it’s for Shuaibo, I’ll risk my life. Anytime.”

The room froze.
Shuaibo’s eyes widened. Woongki gasped dramatically.

Han stiffened, almost dropping the box in his hands.

Steven’s gaze was sharper, unreadable behind the glare of his glasses, but no less heavy.
Jeongwoo was always playful around Shuaibo, always tossing out lines for a laugh. But this one… felt a little different, just enough to make the others glance up.

“…What?” Shuaibo asked, laughing nervously.

Jeongwoo smirked, “I said what I said.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t act like you’re not special, Shuaibo.”

The festival was loud outside, but inside the council room, something had shifted.

Chih En’s hands stopped halfway through sorting the tickets.
He didn’t look up, his face as unreadable as ever, but it was clear he had heard every single word.

A moment later, he stacked the last pile neatly, stood, and walked out without a sound, like it had nothing to do with him.

But just as he reached the door, he glanced back.
It was a simple look, nothing out of place, but somehow, his eyes met Shuaibo’s.

For a split second, Chih En’s chest tightened, his heart stumbling before he forced himself to look away.

Four pairs of eyes are fixed on Shuaibo now, each burning for their own reason.

And for the first time, Shuaibo’s smile wavered just a little.

Why… are they all looking at me like that?

Chapter Text

The festival reached its peak as evening fell, lanterns glowing softly around the courtyard.

“Finished,” Shuaibo panted, wiping sweat from his forehead.
His hair clung damply to his temples. Steven was already nagging. “You overdid it again.”

He handed Shuaibo a towel, his gaze lingered longer than he meant it to. He also set down a water bottle in front of him, and Shuaibo accepted them both  with a simple word of thanks on his lips.

They were the last ones in the room, the rest of their group already out at the festival. Just then, Jeongwoo burst in, calling for Shuaibo to come enjoy the night.

Shuaibo hesitated for a moment but nodded.
They had worked hard to finish everything and deserved this.
Before he could even reply, Jeongwoo grabbed his wrist and pulled him from the room, leaving Steven alone.

The night sky glittered with lanterns. Music from the festival stage drifted through the courtyard as students laughed, ate, and danced.

Shuaibo enjoyed himself, yet he still stopped at booths, still helped wherever he could. No one could stop him.

A few hours passed, and the festival came to an end.

By the time it was around 9pm, the student council members were back in the room, tidying things. Though it could be left for tomorrow, Shuaibo insisted on finishing it tonight.

“Chih En,” Shuaibo called softly. “Thanks for today… you know, holding everything together. You’re the only one who didn’t panic.”

Chih En’s face was unreadable as always "Someone has to stay calm.”
But when Shuaibo smiled at him, the tightness in his chest loosened, slow and quiet, like ice beginning to melt.

Han noticed the way Chih En lingered near Shuaibo’s side, with a softness he rarely showed.
Jeongwoo also caught the faintest shift in Chih En's cool eyes, before anyone else could notice.

They all realized, Chih En wasn’t just detached. He was watching, always.
And maybe… his quiet might be the most dangerous of all.

“Shuaibo,” Steven’s voice snapped, sharp with irritation. “Sit down. Now.”

“No, hyung…I can still help,”

“Your face is pale,” Han interrupted quietly, stepping in front of him. His brows furrowed as he held out a cup of water.

Shuaibo blinked. “Oh? Hannie’s worried again?” He grinned as he accepted it, sipping lightly.

Han froze at the nickname, it sent butterflies through his chest once again.

But Steven wasn’t amused.
“This isn’t funny. You’ve been running since morning. Take a break.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuaibo waved it off, spinning toward the door.
“Just five more minutes! Jeongwoo, I’m helping with the - ”

Before he could finish, his knees buckled.

The cup slipped from his hand and hit the floor, water splashing everywhere.
“Shuaibo?!”
The room blurred into chaos. Jeongwoo ran first, catching him before he hit the ground.

“Shuaibo! Stay with me!”

Han was instantly on his knees beside them, trembling fingers brushing Shuaibo’s forehead. Too hot. He was burning up.

"He has a fever!"

Steven’s jaw clenched, but his hands were steady as he knelt and checked his pulse. “Idiot. I told you this would happen.” His voice cracked at the edges, betraying the panic inside him.

Chih En had already pulled his chair back, slipping his jacket off to pillow Shuaibo’s head for a moment.

Shuaibo groaned faintly, eyelashes fluttering. “S-sorry. I didn’t… mean to…”

“Don’t apologize!” Jeongwoo said. His grip tightened desperately on Shuaibo’s wrist. “You scared the hell out of us!”

Then Steven exhaled sharply, pushing his chair back. He slid his arms beneath Shuaibo, lifting him with surprising ease.
Shuaibo’s eyes fluttered, then slowly shut again, his weight going slack in Steven’s arms.

“We’re wasting time. He needs the infirmary.”

No one argued. Han picked up the bag, Chih En went ahead to push the doors open, and Jeongwoo followed close, still gripping Shuaibo’s hand until the last possible second.is hand slipping from Shuaibo’s only when he had to.

Steven carried him through the dim hall in silence, steady and tense with unspoken worry.

In the infirmary, the room was quiet except for Shuaibo’s breathing.
None of them spoke, but in that silence, they all knew.

They were in love with the same boy and all they could do was worry for him.

And there Shuaibo was lying, fragile, smiling faintly even in his sleep, completely unaware of the boys' feelings

Chapter Text

The next morning, the school infirmary was quiet.
The first thing Shuaibo noticed when he woke was the brightness filtered through the curtains, soft and pale, stinging his tired eyes.

The second thing he noticed was Steven sitting right beside his bed. Still in uniform, hair slightly messy.

“Hyung…?”

Steven jerked his head up, blinking as if pulled from a half-doze. His eyes softened the moment they met Shuaibo’s.

“You’re awake.” His voice was low, rough with fatigue.

Shuaibo’s eyes were half-open, fever-warm. He always called Steven “hyung,” but not like this. This time it was softer and weak, like he was needing him.

Shuaibo blinked, trying to push himself up, but Steven was already reaching out, one hand steadying his shoulder.

“Don’t move too fast. You fainted yesterday.”
“And you didn’t leave?” Shuaibo whispered.

Steven’s silence was answer enough. His tie was loosened, dark circles under his eyes. He had stayed the whole night. He hadn’t even gone to class.

Shuaibo’s chest fluttered, and realization dawned. He asked softly again, “You skipped class for me?”

Steven avoided his gaze, adjusting the blanket higher over Shuaibo’s chest. “Don’t talk nonsense. Just rest.”

“I’m fine now,” Shuaibo said, though the heaviness in his body betrayed him. He gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet but not heavy.
And after the bell rang, as the first morning classes ended, Woongki and Juwon burst in, followed by JL and Daisuke, all with bags of bread and drinks from the cafeteria.

“Zhangshu! You’re awake!” Woongki exclaimed, nearly dropping his bread in relief.

“Shuaibo hyung~~~ you scared us!” Daisuke said, setting the food down on the table beside the bed.

The tension eased for a moment, replaced by chatter as friends fussing over him with food in hand.

Shuaibo had to remain in the infirmary the whole day, still weak.
But Steven never left his side.

Around lunch break, the other boys came in one after another.
They saw Steven adjusting Shuaibo’s blanket carefully.

Steven was the type to scold him for skipping meals or staying up too late, so being cared for like this was… unfamiliar. Shuaibo felt a gentle warmth in his chest, caught between confusion and comfort.

“Hyung, seriously?” Jeongwoo teased as he sat down by the bed, tossing his bag onto a chair nearby.

“Tsk.,” He clicked his tongue. “You’re acting like he’s about to break.”

Steven didn’t respond, his hand smoothing the blanket over Shuaibo one last time.

Shuaibo laughed softly, overwhelmed by everyone’s fussing. “You guys… I’m not dying.”

“Not dying,” Jeongwoo mocked, flicking Shuaibo’s forehead lightly. “You’re this close to collapsing in class and you still think you can joke?”

“Oww,” Shuaibo rubbed the spot with a pout. “But if I don’t joke, you’ll all be too serious.”

Steven’s voice was firm. “Don’t push yourself like that again.”

For a second, their eyes met. Shuaibo froze at how heavy Steven’s gaze was serious but the softness of his tone didn’t match it at all. He swallowed and quickly looked away. “Yes, hyung...”

The room is filled with chatter again. Jeongwoo rambling about how the last night festival food had ruined his stomach, Han cutting in with a flat “no one asked you, Jeongwoo hyung” hich only earned him a sharp side-eye from Jeongwoo.

Amidst it all , Shuaibo realized someone hadn’t shown up. Chih En.

The thought flickered through his mind, leaving behind a quiet disappointment he couldn’t explain. They aren’t in the same class, but between shared lectures, quiet library sessions, and student council works, he was used to seeing Chih En around.
Maybe he’d grown too used to it, only to feel the weight of its absence now.

His gaze drifted briefly to Jeongwoo, he could’ve asked about Chih En just casually.
But the words stuck in his throat. He looked down instead, fingers curling slightly in the blanket. Shuaibo felt that a strange, tangled heaviness pressing in.

He also noticed how everyone here was a little too close, a little too attentive.
And though he was smiling, he felt a small, nervous weight in his chest.
Because he could tell.
Something had shifted.

It was the same feeling as yesterday, when all their eyes had fixed on him, heavy enough to make his smile waver.
The feeling was something he couldn’t name, but the air between them didn’t feel the same anymore.

Chapter Text

It was already evening when the final bell rang, the sound echoing faintly through the quiet infirmary. The nurse came back for a final check and, after a quick look, said Shuaibo was fine to head home. He sat up slowly with Steven’s support. His face was still pale, but his body felt steady enough to stand. Steven held his arm firmly, guiding him up so he wouldn’t lose balance.

He also helped gather Shuaibo’s bag and walked him to the gate without a word of complaint, as if it was the most natural thing.

“Thank you, hyung…”

Shuaibo glanced up at him more than once, wanting to ask why he had stayed the entire day, why he hadn’t gone to class even once.

But when he looked at Steven’s face, composed as always, the words caught in his throat., wondering when things had started to shift.
Usually, their relationship was just student council president and vice president, senior and junior keeping order, solving problems, talking about schedules and duties.

Steven’s presence had always been reliable, comforting. But there was still a distance, like the role itself kept a line between them, one that made it harder to speak.

So instead, he smiled faintly, letting the silence speak for him.

They stepped out of the gate together, the evening air was cool against their skin, and the shadows stretching long beneath the newly lit streetlamps.

As they were walking, a sudden breeze rushed past, and Shuaibo shivered. He tugged at his shirt sleeves, but it wasn’t enough against the evening chill.
Steven noticed instantly. Without a word, he took out a scarf from his own bag, unfolding it before carefully wrapping it around Shuaibo’s neck.

Shuaibo blinked, wide-eyed. “Steven hyung...”

“Don’t argue,” Steven said, looking straight ahead. His voice was firm, but his hand lingered a moment too long as he adjusted the scarf around Shuaibo’s collar.

The scarf was warm, faintly carrying Steven’s scent, something steady and grounding, giving Shuaibo’s heart a little flutter.

He laughed softly, trying to cover it. “You’re acting like my dad.”

Steven glanced at him then, and for once, his expression wasn’t stern. It was softer, almost tender. “Someone has to take care of you.”

The street was quiet except for their footsteps.
Shuaibo tucked his chin into the scarf, the cheeks were warm despite the cold. “Thank you so much, Steven hyung.” He found himself saying it again, but this time his voice was softer, almost shy.

Steven’s steps slowed, he felt his chest melt at the sound of Shuaibo's voice.

They walked on, side by side. Neither spoke, but the silence between them felt warm, not awkward. The road seemed longer than usual, but neither minded.

Every so often, Shuaibo would glance at him, then quickly away, his thoughts drifting somewhere Steven couldn’t follow.
At one point, he chuckled under his breath.

“What?” Steven asked.

Shuaibo shook his head, smiling faintly. “Ah… sorry. I was just thinking it’s nice. Like this.”

Steven didn’t fully understand what he meant, but his chest tightened anyway. His eyes flickered with something like hope, though all he said was, “…Yeah. It is.”

From a distance,
Standing at the crossroad with a bag of drinks in hand, Han froze. Just a few meters ahead, under the glow of the lamps, was the scene he never wanted to stumble upon.

Shuaibo, wrapped in Steven’s scarf, laughing in the way that lit up his whole face.
Steven, leaning slightly closer, eyes gentler than Han had ever seen them.

Han’s fingers tightened around the bag until the handles pressed into his palms. A hollow ache spread in his chest, heavier than the weight in his hands.
He told himself to look away. To keep walking. But his eyes wouldn’t move.

The way Shuaibo looked at Steven, and the way Steven looked back made something twist painfully in Han’s chest.
He finally looked away and forced himself to move. As he walked faster, the cold air stung his cheeks, but it was nothing compared to what he felt inside.

When he reached his room, he tossed the bag aside, the drinks inside forgotten.
The image wouldn’t leave him,
Steven’s scarf around Shuaibo’s neck, like it belonged there.
Han pressed a hand over his eyes, but it only made the memory stronger,

Shuaibo’s smile was so bright that could have lit the whole street on its own , and it wasn’t for him.

That smile used to feel like it was his.

At least, he thought it was. But Shuaibo smiled that way to everyone… and Han hated how much he wanted it only for himself.

He leaned back in his chair, chest aching in a way he couldn’t put into words. “…Idiot,” he muttered, not sure if he meant Steven or himself.

He wanted to believe it was just a small jealousy. But the truth was so strong to deny.
He likes Shuaibo. More than he should and more than he could hide.

And now, Steven was ahead of him.
Han clenched his fists. “I won’t lose.”
The whisper was barely audible, swallowed by the silence of his room.

The next morning, before classes, there was a meeting in the student council room.

It was the same room as always, the same desks and papers, yet for Shuaibo, something felt… different.

Han sat in his usual spot, chin resting on one hand, his eyes far away. When others spoke to him, he replied, but words were brief and his tone was harsher than usual.

“Morning!” Shuaibo said brightly as he placed his bag down. He tilted his head, giving Han a small smile.

Only then did Han change. His gaze lifted, and for a moment, his eyes softened. “…Morning.” His voice was quieter than before.

Before Shuaibo could say more, the door opened. Steven entered, and his eyes landed on Shuaibo, they softened just like yesterday. Without hesitation, he came closer and tapped Shuaibo lightly on the shoulder.

“Take it easy today. Don’t push yourself.”

“Y-Yes, hyung,” Shuaibo replied.

Han’s jaw tightened. His gaze flicked from Steven to Shuaibo, then back down to the table.

The balance in the room felt fragile, like glass about to crack. Shuaibo noticed it most when Han spoke with the others, especially Steven. The air around him seemed heavier somehow.

And then there was Chih En. As Shuaibo glanced around, he realized that Chih En hadn’t shown up at the meeting either. For someone usually so punctual, his absence was strange.

Still, Shuaibo put a smile as always, not realizing how much weight his presence carried for the boys around him.

When the meeting finally ended, he gathered his things and made his way back to class. The usual noise of voices and chairs filled the room as he walked in, Jeongwoo following right beside him.

They headed over to Woongki’s seat, where he was already waving them over with a grin. The three of them slipped into easy chatter, Woongki throwing in silly remarks while Jeongwoo teased Shuaibo the way he always did, half habit, half affection disguised as a joke.

Shuaibo laughed along with them, his voice light and unguarded, the kind of laugh that made it easy to forget about the tension from earlier.

During lunch break, Steven caught Shuaibo in the hallway with a sandwich and carton of milk.

“That’s all you’re eating?”

Shuaibo blinked. “Well… I wasn’t that hungry...”

“Not good enough,” Steven muttered, taking the milk from his hand. “You’ll faint again if you keep this up.”

Before Shuaibo could answer, Han appeared at his side, arms crossed. “Hyung, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. He’s not a kid.”

Steven’s eyes shifted toward him, cold and hard, “And you’re not his guardian.”

The tension was back, once again.
Shuaibo looked between them, puzzled. “I-I’m fine, really! Don’t fight…”

Steven exhaled, handing the milk back. “Just eat properly.” He walked off, shoulders stiff.

Han’s gaze lingered, lips pressed into a thin line.

Shuaibo let out a small sigh, clutching the sandwich in his hands.

After finishing his food, his steps carried him toward the library.
He told himself it wasn’t on purpose, but a small part of him wondered if Chih En might be there.

The library was quiet, just a few students spread across the tables, heads lowered over their books. Shuaibo stood by the doorway for a moment, scanning the rows of shelves as if Chih En might suddenly appear from behind one of them.

But he wasn't there.
A small ache of disappointment tugged at his chest.
Maybe Chih En was sick? The thought flickered through his mind before he quickly shook it off. His phone felt heavy in his pocket. He could send a message, ask where Chih En was, but he didn’t want to bother him. With a quiet sigh, he slipped the phone back and walked away.

When the last class ended, Woongki stretched with a loud groan. “Finally done. Let’s go, Shuaibo!”

Jeongwoo slung his bag over his shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, let’s head back together.”

Shuaibo shook his head with a small smile. “You guys go first. I forgot my notebook in the music room.”

“I can come with y—” Jeongwoo started, but Woongki hooked an arm around his neck before he could finish.

“Don’t take too long, Zhangshu~” Woongki called, giving a lazy salute as he tugged Jeongwoo down the hall.

“Yaah….w-wait—!” Jeongwoo protested, glancing back at Shuaibo, but he was already being pulled away.

Shuaibo laughed softly to himself as their voices faded behind him.

The corridors were quieter now, with only a few students lingering here and there. Evening had already settled in, and most of the classrooms felt empty. His own steps echoed faintly as he made his way toward the music room.

He thought the room would be empty. But when he pushed the door open, he wasn’t alone.

Chih En was there, seated at the piano by the window, one hand lazily pressing the keys. The mellow notes drifted into the room, fading into the dusky light.

Shuaibo blinked. For a moment, he lingered at the doorway, his eyes caught on Chih En’s side profile, the glow from outside tracing his silhouette in soft gold. Something about the sight made his chest feel warm. He stepped closer before he even realized, his voice coming out quieter than he intended. “Chih En…?

The other boy didn’t look up right away. His expression was unreadable. “You’re loud even when you’re quiet.”

Shuaibo laughed nervously. “That’s not fair… I was trying to sneak in.”

Finally, Chih En turned his head, and said “…You always sneak in everywhere, don’t you?”

Shuaibo tilted his head. “Do I? …Well, I didn’t see you at all today.”

Chih En’s fingers still dancing on the keys, and he asked “…You noticed?”
His voice was casual, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

Shuaibo faltered, scratching at the back of his neck. “I—I mean… you weren’t at the meeting this morning.”

Instead of answering right away, Chih En pressed the last key, the sound hanging in the air before fading into silence.

But his thoughts drifted elsewhere, back to the day before.

He had gone to the school infirmary with a copy of their lecture notes in hand. It was from one of the subjects he and Shuaibo shared, and he’d taken the time to write them out neatly, thinking it might help Shuaibo catch up since he couldn’t attend the class.

But when he reached the door, he paused.
Through the small gap, Chih En saw Steven leaning close, helping Shuaibo with his bag. Their faces were almost touching, Steven’s hand steady on Shuaibo’s arm like he didn’t want to let go.

And the way Shuaibo smiled, soft, natural, the kind of smile he gave so freely to everyone. But seeing it now, directed at Steven, in private, pressed like an heavy weight against Chih En’s chest in a way it shouldn’t have.

Chih En’s grip on the doorknob tightened until his knuckles went white. Without knocking, without stepping in, he turned away.
The notes he carried never made it past the door.

That’s the reason why he hadn’t gone to class today, his head too heavy with thoughts, and somehow he ended up here. Now, sitting at the piano, that same heaviness weighed on him again. He let the final note fade before he finally spoke. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed something deeper.

“You laugh with everyone. But when you smile… it feels different.”
Shuaibo froze, caught off guard. “Different… how?”

“Like it’s not for the room. Just for the person in front of you.”
The words landed heavier than they seemed. Shuaibo’s lips parted, but no reply came out.

Chih En leaned back, keeping his composure though the air between them had shifted. “You left your notebook.” He nodded toward the desk near the other window.

“Oh—right.” Shuaibo hurried over and picked it up, clutching it to his chest. He hesitated, then glanced back. Chih En was still watching him with unreadable expression.

Trying to break the silence, Shuaibo gave a small laugh. “You know? You always sound like you’re scolding me, even when you’re not.”

For the first time, the corner of Chih En’s lips tugged upward, barely a smile, but enough.

Shuaibo noticed it, but he quickly looked away. “Aren’t you going back?”
Chih En’s fingers brushed over the keys, a low note humming through the room. “Not yet. I’ll stay a little longer.”

Something in his tone made Shuaibo stop from asking further. With a faint smile of his own, he only said, “Don’t stay too late, then.”

As he stepped out of the room, notebook still clutched to his chest, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Chih En’s gaze was still following him.

Shuaibo walked home that night thinking about Chih En and his words.

“When you smile…it feels different.”

Shuaibo bit his lip, shaking his head. Why would Chih En suddenly say something like that? He always acted detached, like nothing matters… and yet those words left his chest fluttering, restless in a way that wasn’t unpleasant at all.

Instead, a quiet curiosity grew in him, like he wanted to look closer, to understand the parts of Chih En he’d never been allowed to see.

Chapter Text

During class, Shuaibo found his gaze drifting back more often than he wanted to admit. Chih En sat near the back as always, lazy posture, eyes on the window. But once, just once, when Shuaibo laughed at Woongki’s joke, he turned his head, and their eyes met.

It wasn’t long, but it was enough. Chih En’s stare was steady, like he was waiting for something.
Shuaibo looked away too quickly, ears burning.

At lunch break, as Shuaibo stepped into the quieter hallway, a hand suddenly caught his wrist.
“Hyung”

It was Han. His voice was low, a little rushed.
Shuaibo blinked. “Han? What’s wr-”

Han tugged him into an empty stairwell before he could finish. The door clicked shut behind them, muting the noise of the school.

“You scared me…” Shuaibo frowned but his voice was still soft as ever.

Han didn’t answer right away. His grip on Shuaibo’s wrist lingered, then slowly loosened. His face was shadowed, jaw tight.

“Do you… ever think about how you make people feel?” he asked suddenly.

Shuaibo blinked, startled. “Eh? What do you mean?”

Han let out a breath, frustrated with himself. “You just… you smile, you laugh, you say things without realizing.” His voice dropped, shaky. “And people… can’t stop thinking about it.”

Shuaibo’s lips parted. He didn’t fully understand, but the weight in Han’s tone made his chest squeeze. “Han… are you okay?”

Han finally looked at him, eyes raw in a way Shuaibo had never seen before. “Just… don’t change, okay? Don’t drift away.”

The words weren’t an explanation, but a plea.

Shuaibo hesitated, then smiled gently, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Of course I won’t. You’re my friend, Hannie.”

Han froze at the nickname. It slipped out so casually, but it hit him like a rush of heat. His ears burned, his throat tight. He quickly looked away, muttering, “…Idiot.”
Shuaibo tilted his head, confused at the sudden shift.

But even as Han turned, hand brushing over his own chest, the ache there only grew.
Upstairs, Chih En rested against the window, face unreadable, his fingers idly tracing the piano melody from the night before on the sill, slow, steady…like he was waiting.

The winter evening came early, and the student council room glowed faintly under the yellow lamps. The others had left, but Shuaibo stayed behind, copying notes into his book.
The door slid open.

“Still here?” Steven asked.

Shuaibo glanced up and smiled. “Ah, Steven hyung. I just wanted to finish this.” His tone softened on hyung, the way it always did when he addressed Steven.

Steven’s lips curved, pleased. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay too long. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

Before Shuaibo could answer, another voice came from the back.
“He’s not that fragile.”

Chih En leaned against a desk, arms crossed, looking perfectly at ease as if he’d been there the whole time. His eyes slid lazily to Shuaibo. “But… don’t overdo it.”

Shuaibo blinked, startled. “Chih En, you were still here?”

Chih En shrugged. “You didn’t notice.”

Before Shuaibo could speak again, the door creaked open and Han stepped in, a scarf draped around his neck. His gaze went first to Shuaibo, then flicked to Steven and finally to Chih En. His jaw tightened.

“…Everyone’s still here?” he muttered, trying for casual, but the air grew heavier.

Steven offered a polite smile. “Looks like it.”

Oblivious to the tension, Shuaibo let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. “It feels like we’re holding a secret meeting.”

Han’s eyes softened at his laugh, though his fists remained hidden in his pockets.
Steven stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Shuaibo’s shoulder. “Secret or not, you should go home. I’ll take you.”

But before Shuaibo could agree, Chih En spoke, his voice was flat yet firm.
“He doesn’t need someone to escort him everywhere. He’s fine on his own.”

Steven’s hand paused, trying to keep his polite smile “And how would you know?”

Chih En didn’t even look at him. His gaze stayed on Shuaibo. “I know he’s stronger than you think.

Han’s breath hitched. He stepped forward, sharp. “Don’t talk like you understand him.” His voice carried a raw edge, surprising even himself.

Shuaibo looked from one face to the next, clearly clueless. “Eh? Why are you all acting so weird?”

“Nothing,” Steven said quickly, “Let’s just go.”

Han muttered under his breath.“…Always trying to take him away.”

Chih En didn’t reply, but his eyes stayed lingered on Shuaibo a moment too long before he finally looked away.

Shuaibo, confused but never fails to make a smile, finally stood and picked up his notebook. “Then… let’s all walk together. It’ll be warmer that way.”

He said it innocently, not realizing how his words pulled on all of their hearts at once.

The three exchanged glances, Steven’s gentle but possessive, Han’s jealous and restless, Chih En’s cool and unreadable, each carrying a storm Shuaibo hadn’t yet noticed.

The four of them left the campus together. Outside, the night air was cold and clear, and the streetlamps glowed softly, casting long shadows across the road.

Shuaibo tugged his scarf higher, cheeks pink from the chill. “It’s colder than I thought…”

Steven immediately wrapped his coat over Shuaibo’s shoulders. “Here, that should help.”

Shuaibo laughed, “Hyung, now I’ll look like a walking blanket.”

Han sighed, almost sulking, “Better than catching a cold…” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

Chih En said nothing, just walked beside them, his quiet and steady presence was enough to make Shuaibo glance at him now and then, though he never met his eyes.

The atmosphere felt heavy again, though Shuaibo tried not to notice until when a cheerful voice called out.

“Shuaibo!”

They all turned. Jeongwoo appeared from the corner, waving his hands at Shuaibo. His cheeks were flushed from running and hair was slightly messy.

“Jeongwoo?” Shuaibo blinked. “What are you doing here this late?”

“Waiting for you, obviously.” Jeongwoo grinned, then looked at the three around Shuaibo...Steven, Han, Chih En and for a moment, his smile faltered for a moment.

“Mind if I borrow him?” Jeongwoo asked. Steven opened his mouth to protest, but Jeongwoo had already grabbed Shuaibo’s hand. “Just for tonight,” he said with a grin.

Han narrowed his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line.
Chih En said nothing, but a flicker of disappointment passed over his face.

Before any of them could react, Jeongwoo tugged Shuaibo down a side street.

“Jeongwoo…” Shuaibo laughed, breathless. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! What’s going on?”

Jeongwoo stopped, still holding his hand, his usual grin softened into something almost shy. “Nothing serious. I just… didn’t want you getting lost in all that mess back there.”

Shuaibo tilted his head, frowning slightly. “All what?”

Jeongwoo hesitated, then chuckled to cover it. “Never mind. You’re too dense sometimes, you know?”

Shuaibo pouted. “Yaahhh!”

Jeongwoo’s gaze lingered on him, so open, so unguarded. The words he wanted to say tangled on his tongue. Instead, he gently tugged Shuaibo’s scarf tighter around his neck. “At least stay warm. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Shuaibo blinked at the unexpected closeness. For a second, he thought Jeongwoo’s eyes looked lonelier than usual. But before he could ask, Jeongwoo ruffled his hair playfully and stepped back.

“Hmm… we don’t have to rush just yet, do we?” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Let’s take a walk for a bit.”

Shuaibo laughed, though he didn’t know why his chest felt lighter and heavier at the same time.

Back at the main street, three figures still remained silent, and none of them looked happy.

The next morning, it felt like the air in the student council room was unusually heavy for Shuaibo.

“Shuaibo-ah!” Jeongwoo’s bright voice cut through the atmosphere as he bounded over. He sat down beside Shuaibo with his usual grin, but his shoulder brushed just a little closer than normal. “Did you sleep well? I was worried after dragging you around yesterday.”

Shuaibo laughed softly. “Worried? You were the one who dragged me.”

“Details,” Jeongwoo teased, though his eyes lingered a little too long on Shuaibo’s face before flicking away.

Steven, at his desk, shut his book. “You shouldn’t have run off with him. It was late.” His voice was calm, but there was a hint of irritation beneath the surface.

“I just borrowed him,” Jeongwoo said, his grin fading slightly under Steven’s piercing gaze.

Han clicked his tongue and leaned back in his seat. “Borrowed? He’s not some kind of-” He stopped himself, letting the unfinished words hang.

The silence that followed was heavy, until Chih En, nonchalant as ever, spoke without looking up from his notebook. “Don’t drag him out at night again. It’s reckless.”

For the first time, all three...Steven, Han, and Chih En were on the same side. Shuaibo, caught in the middle, blinked, unsure whether to laugh or hide. “Hey, guys… don’t fight. It’s fine. Really.”

Jeongwoo chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension, but even his usual bright demeanor couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened.

At lunch, the cafeteria was loud with clattering trays and chatter. Shuaibo sat with his friends, but he couldn’t shake the strange heaviness from earlier.

Woongki leaned over with a mischievous grin. “Zhangshu, you’ve got three shadows today.”

“Three shadows?” Shuaibo blinked, confused.
Woongki pointed subtly at Steven lingering by the vending machine, Han watching from the window side, Chih En pretending to scroll his phone but looking up every other second.

Shuaibo’s ears warmed. “…That’s not true…”

Woongki smirked. “If you move, they’ll all move too.”

Shuaibo opened his mouth to protest, but Jeongwoo suddenly set his chopsticks down with a sharp clack. His usual smile was gone.

“Stop teasing him, Woongki.”

Woongki blinked, surprised at the seriousness in Jeongwoo’s tone. The table went quiet.

Shuaibo turned, a little startled. “Jeongwoo… it’s fine, really. I don’t mind…”

But Jeongwoo only forced a small smile, shaking his head. “You don’t notice anything, do you?”

The words were soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, yet they hit Shuaibo strangely. He looked at Jeongwoo who had already gone back to eating, pretending nothing had happened.

I noticed… but I’ll keep quiet.

Chapter Text

Someone had suggested a small after-party at a classmate’s house. The backyard was alive with warm lights and music, but the winter air nipped at his fingers and face, carrying the faint smell of grilled food.

Shuaibo tugged his cardigan tighter around himself. He wasn’t much of a party person, but Woongki and Juwon had practically dragged him along. JL was already dancing badly with Daisuke, laughters echoing, while the rest of the class chilling around with drinks and snacks.

Shuaibo tried to smile and join in, but he couldn’t shake the strange awareness that had been following him lately, eyes that always seemed fixed on him.

Steven was by the drink table, pouring soda into a cup but glancing over every few seconds.

Han lingered near the snacks table, talking to others yet he couldn’t stop glancing at Shuaibo.

Chih En leaned against the fence, one hand in his pocket, looking calm… but whenever Shuaibo moved, his gaze was following too.

And Jeongwoo, by his side as always, tried to joke and laugh, but tonight it sounded a little off, like he was holding something back.

It was suffocating, all of them pulling at him in their own way. Shuaibo’s chest tightened, not with confusion, but with awareness.

It was when Jeongwoo went to grab food, leaving Shuaibo alone, that Han approached. “Cold?” His gaze lingered on Shuaibo’s thin cardigan.

“A little,” Shuaibo admitted, rubbing his arms.

Han took off his own jacket and held it out. “Here… wear this.”

Shuaibo hesitated, but Han’s tone left no room for argument. He slipped it on, warmth spreading against the chill. His lips parted to thank him, but Han muttered something, too low for anyone else to hear, but loud enough for Shuaibo.

“…I hate seeing you cold. You… matter too much to me.”

Shuaibo froze. His chest fluttered and his eyes met Han’s, who looked almost startled by his own words, like he hadn’t meant to say them aloud.

Before Shuaibo could answer, Steven’s voice cut in from behind.

“Han. You’re being… bold.”

Han’s jaw tightened, but he turned away, leaving Shuaibo standing there, the jacket felt heavy on his shoulders.

The laughter and chatter swirled around him, but Shuaibo barely registered any of it. Every glance, every little gesture from the boys pressed against his chest, making it hard to know where to look, or how to breathe.

He noticed Steven from the corner of his eye, gaze sharp enough to cut through the cold.

For the first time, Shuaibo realized. They didn’t just like him as a friend.

To escape the chaos of the party, Shuaibo lingered at the corner of the backyard, hands buried deep in Han’s jacket. His chest was still racing, mind refusing to quiet itself.

Why did he say that? Why me?

The thought spun around his head so fast he felt dizzy.

“Shuaibo.”

The voice was soft, controlled, and it made him jump. He turned. Chih En was standing a few steps away, backlit by the dim roadlamp outside the fence.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Something’s… off about you.”

Shuaibo’s breath caught. “…how?”

Chih En’s voice was calm, but his eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I can see it in the way you move, the way you hold yourself. You can’t hide it from me.”

Shuaibo parted his lips. No words came. He really noticed that much?

Chih En stepped closer, the faint chill of the night clinging to him. He stopped just close enough that Shuaibo didn’t know whether he should meet his eyes, or look anywhere else.

“You really don’t notice, do you?” Chih En murmured.

Shuaibo swallowed hard. “Notice… what?”
Jeongwoo had also said something similar the other day.

Chih En’s eyes flicked to the jacket on Shuaibo, then back to his face. A low breath escaped him like a laugh, but not amused at all.

“Everyone’s looking at you like you’re the center of their world. Han. Steven. Even Jeongwoo.” He paused, gaze heavy on Shuaibo. “And… it’s like you don’t even notice, and somehow, it makes my chest ache.”

Shuaibo’s stomach flipped. His throat tightened. “I-I’m not… I just… I don’t…”

Chih En’s lips curved into a small, almost hesitant smile. His eyes stayed fixed on Shuaibo, a mix of seriousness and quiet longing. “Then let me say it clearly… so you stop being blind to it.”

He leaned in just slightly, his voice was soft but firm. “I… I like you, Shuaibo.”

Shuaibo’s heart jolted. His cheeks burned despite the cold, and his fingers tightened around the jacket without him realizing it. His breath caught, words vanished, mind going blank. He’d known it—he’d always known it—but hearing Chih En say it…
he hadn’t expected it.
Especially not from him.

Chih En stayed where he was, not moving closer, not touching, just holding Shuaibo in his gaze. Shuaibo’s hands dug deeper into the jacket sleeves. The sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, felt too loud that the cold air around them seemed to disappear.

“Wh…what?” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Chih En’s expression softened for a moment.
“You don’t have to feel the same,” Chih En’s voice cracked. “I… I just can’t hold it in anymore.”

Shuaibo parted his lips, but no sound came. His throat was dry and a weight pressed on his chest

“Don’t… say that as a joke,” he whispered, almost pleading.

Chih En’s gaze softened, almost vulnerable. He took a slow step closer.
“Do I look like I’m joking?”

The cold air carried the faint scent of him, so subtle and intoxicating. Shuaibo instinctively stepped back, only to feel the fence press against his back. He was trapped in Chih En’s shadow.

“Chih En…”

“Look at me,” Chih En said, low and calm, but with an undercurrent of tension.

Shuaibo’s eyes darted everywhere, the party lights, the ground, his shaking hands, anywhere but Chih En's face.

Chih En’s hand lifted, resting against the fence beside his face. Not touching him, but close enough to make his stomach twist.

“You don’t have to answer,” Chih En murmured softly and carefully. “Just… stop pretending you don’t feel anything.”

Shuaibo’s chest tightened painfully. His breaths came in uneven gasps. “I… I don’t know what I feel,” he admitted, his voice shaky. “Everything… it’s too much. Han, Steven, Jeongwoo… and now you. Just..why me?”

“Because you’re you.” Chih En’s eyes searched his, voice trembling despite the calm he tried to wear. “Because your smile lights up everything around you! Because I feel safe when you’re near! I can’t think straight when you’re close...I can’t stop caring, even when it hurts. And when you look at me, just for a second, I can’t think of anyone else. You’re… my soft spot, Shuaibo. I can’t—won’t—ignore it, even if it breaks me.”

Shuaibo’s breath hitched, chest tightening painfully with every word. He hadn’t realized until now how close they were, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Chih En despite the cold. Then he noticed it: a faint glimmer in Chih En’s lashes, his eyes shimmering as if holding back tears. For the second time, he saw another side of Chih En , the side that was vulnerable, that hurt, that could break at any moment.

“…Chih En…” he whispered, barely audible.

Unconsciously, Shuaibo lifted a finger, as if to brush away the faint tear at the corner of Chih En’s eye. But before he could reach him, Chih En stepped back and the sudden distance letting the cold came back in, making Shuaibo shiver.

“I… I’m sorry.”

And with that, Chih En turned and walked away, leaving Shuaibo pressed against the fence, trembling. Slowly, he slid down, knees weak, and his chest ached, torn between relief and disappointment, between confusion and… something he couldn’t put into words.

The party had quieted down; only a few people were cleaning up, and it seemed the others had gone home. Shuaibo slipped inside after Chih En left, his head spinning. He wandered into the kitchen, hoping to splash water on his face, but before he could reach the sink-

“Shuaibo.”

That familiar voice made him freeze.

Steven leaned casually against the counter, arms folded, but his eyes weren’t casual at all. He’d seen something.

“…Hyung,” Shuaibo whispered.

Steven’s gaze lingered on him, lips pressing into a thin line.

“You okay?” Steven asked.

Shuaibo tried to smile. “Y-yeah… just tired. The party was loud.”

Steven didn’t believe him. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Someone said something to you, didn’t they?”

Shuaibo’s stomach twisted. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Steven studied him for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh. He reached up and brushed Shuaibo’s hair out of his eyes the way he always did—but this time, Shuaibo felt something different.

“…It doesn’t matter,” Shuaibo’s voice was quiet.

Steven could tell he was lying, but he didn’t push. “Just… don’t let anyone pressure you. You don’t owe anyone your feelings.”

Shuaibo blinked up at him, heart racing. “Hyung…”

Steven forced a small, tight smile. “I’ll always look out for you. That’s enough for me.”

He started to leave, but before he reached the doorway, he added, almost too softly to hear, “But I hope you know that… I really like you.”
And then he was gone, and the room felt suddenly emptier.

Shuaibo’s fingers twitched, reaching out as if he could hold onto the last trace of Steven’s presence, but he couldn't move. His chest was aching, full, tangled and impossible to sort.

He sank into a nearby chair, pressing his forehead into his hands, letting the weight of everything settle on him.

Han. Chih En. Steven. Jeongwoo… What am I supposed to do?